


The Musain Café Ultimate Playlist

by johnwtfson



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnwtfson/pseuds/johnwtfson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Les Amis all run a coffee shop. There are many arguments about the music that should be played in said coffee shop. So one day, sick of all the ridiculous debates, Enjolras gets them all to pick  songs that they like the most - themselves in song form. And he creates the ultimate mix CD that ends the music fighting for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Musain Café Ultimate Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> i don't own anything mentioned in here - be it starbucks, or any of the music artists and songs mentioned. also i'm so sorry for being enjoltaire trash (no i'm not)

 

The Musain café is a calming environment, according to Enjolras. The customers tend to be relaxed and friendly, and the traffic from the Main Street that the café overlooks is never too loud, nor too busy. Yes, in Enjolras' opinion, which is always highly logical and sensible, the Musain is close to a perfect café. 

 

There's just... One tiny problem. 

 

Enjolras loves his friends. He really does. The Les Amis make his days happier, and they're all great people. However, getting them to work together is a challenge. Furthermore, getting them to decide on a song, or an artist, or even a simple genre, to play in the Musain, is more of an impossible task and less of a challenge. 

 

Enjolras tries. He tries hard. For the most part, getting his friends to work together and be polite to customers isn't too tricky. Occasionally, Courf will flirt with them inappropriately, and Combeferre will tell him off. Or, Grantaire will mock the more pretentious orders and Enjolras, despite all his wisdom, will reprimand Grantaire. But for the better part of his dayjob, Enjolras is able to keep them all civil, and even manage to bite his own tongue. 

 

But the music is where he can't bite his tongue. The arguments are out of hand, distracting - and he's not even involved in them. And to Enjolras, an argument he doesn't believe in is an argument not worth fighting for. It goes for politics, ice cream flavours... But it doesn't extend to music. 

 

He's desperate. Nothing has worked to keep the peace. War (okay, perhaps not war... Enjolras has always been dramatic) threatens daily. He needs to do something about it. And he plans to do exactly that. 

 

///

 

"I hate this song so much. Bossuet, did you put this on?"

 

Bossuet jumps off of the counter. "Nah, Jehan. Not me. I don't mind it, but really. Eminem? Do you even know me?"

 

"I probably should have guessed..." Jehan trails off, stirring the cake batter slowly. "Bit frazzled today, not quite myself, I'm afraid."

 

"I can tell," Bossuet says. "Look, I have a feeling it's Bahorel's shit. Do you want me to go tell him off?"

 

"Oh, would you? You're a darling, Bossuet," Jehan responds, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

 

"Isn't he just?" Musichetta announces, entering the kitchen with an armful of flour bags. 

 

"Yeah, thanks, 'Chetta," Bossuet winks, blowing her a kiss. "I'll go do that for you, Jehan. But you should tell us what's going on between you and Bahorel. I don't like to see you down, y'know?"

 

They nod. "Thanks, Bossuet."

 

Leaving them alone with Musichetta carrying her flour, Bossuet leaves to go find Bahorel. He knows Jehan and Bahorel have been going through a rough patch, mainy started by the bloody music thing, and he doesn't like it, but he's going to leave until either one of them feels comfortable discussing it - which doesn't seem too soon. 

 

Bahorel's standing behind the counter, watching Marius burn his fingers. "Laigle! How's the kitchen, man?"

 

Bossuet smiles politely. "Not bad, Bahorel, not bad. I have a formal complaint, however."

 

Bahorel's smile drops. "Don't say it's the music."

 

Bossuet shrugs simply.

 

"Aw, I'm on customer duties right now, it's my turn to pick! If you complain, that defeats the purpose of having this system!" Bahorel complains. 

 

"What's going on here?" Enjolras asks, as Marius yelps in pain. 

 

Bossuet turns to face him. "Well, to put it simply, Bahorel's music taste is crap, Jehan agrees, and Marius should never be put on coffee making duty. Like, ever."

 

Enjolras can't help but silently agree with him. 

 

///

 

His plan is coming along slowly. That is, to say, he has scribbled some ideas onto sticky notes and then tossed them away. But it's slight progress, even if it's all for nothing. 

 

The next day at the café is no better. 

 

"Feuilly, I love you, dude, but your music taste is absolute shit," Grantaire tells the taller, red headed man. Feuilly pulls a face. 

 

"What's wrong with-"

 

"Bon Jovi and Adele? It just doesn't  _go_  together, man! It's making my eardrums bleed!"

 

Combeferre looks up from his nearby table, where he's supposed to be having his break with Enjolras. He smirks at him and then turns to Grantaire. "Grantaire, I am a very successful med student who recieves maximum marks on all assignments I hand up, and I can  _honestly_  say that you look perfectly fine, and so do your eardrums."

 

Feuilly stifles a laugh, but quickly stops when Grantaire pulls out the aux cord from his phone and plugs his own in. At a table near Enjolras' and Combeferre's, a young family jump at the sudden change of music and glare at the counter. 

 

Enjolras notices and moves up to the counter. "You're going to lose us customers."

 

Grantaire smirks. "What do you care? This whole place is a capitalist environment that relies on the bourgeois class to pay for our wage!"

 

Enjolras rubs his temples. Grantaire is his friend, but darn it, he drives him up the wall sometimes. 

 

"Here at the Musain café, we believe in equal pay, natural ingredients, fair labour, and appropriate prices. We don't buy into the capitalist nonsense that large brand names believe in, making your experience here an easier one," he recites, not even needing one of their brochures to know their aim. Grantaire has the decency to look impressed. 

 

"Not bad, Apollo. But, to be fair... Feuilly's music is shit."

 

Enjolras listens to the droning of Morrissey's voice, and forces himself not to argue. It's not worth it. Not worth it at all. 

 

///

 

He briefly thinks about creating a new shedule for shifts and access to the CD player or auxiliary cord, but decides it's too problematic and dwells on it no further. 

 

"Fuck, Enj. The music in here is enough to make me consider to going to  _Starbucks_ , even if it's overhyped and expensive," Eponine tells him bluntly as she walks in to their café. Cosette, who follows behind her, gives her a look. As far as he knows, Jehan is in control of the CD player currently, which makes sense, considering the current rainforest-noises-plus-Bon-Iver music coming from the speakers. Truthfully, he doesn't think it fits the café whatsoever, but he knows better than to voice to this. 

 

"That's very disrespectful, Eponine," Jehan glares from behind the counter. Grantaire shrugs, and Enjolras hates him. He hates him for stirring up more drama, for being keen to see some kind of fight break out, for smirking so proudly and so beautifully that it makes Enjolras' stomach flip as his head denies the feeling exists. 

 

"She's got a poin-"

 

"So! What do you lovely humans recommend," Cosette half-yells, and Enjolras reminds himself to bring her a free slice of cake later. 

 

Playing peacekeeper is tiring. And some days, he almost doesn't think it's worth it. 

 

///

 

But one day, he regrets ever thinking that. 

 

It's not pretty. They're supposed to be friends. Close friends. And yeah, maybe choosing to work together isn't the best idea for a group of people so different, but Enjolras didn't really expect the fights to become anything more than verbal taunts. 

 

Forced to kick his own workers and friends out of the café, Enjolras watches silently as Bahorel goes home with bruise knuckles, and Grantaire goes home with a bloody, slight off-centre nose. 

 

He was being a little shit, as always. Enjolras knows this. And Bahorel has a quick temper. Enjolras knows this. 

 

He still feels bad for not doing something sooner. 

 

It's almost as if Grantaire knows this. Despite being able to press every button Enjolras has, the man is scarily good and predicting how he feels. 

 

' ** _To: Apollo_**

**_From: Me_ **

  
_contrary to popular belief, u can't see everything coming. srry for being an idiot._ '

 

Later that night, Enjolras devises what he hopes will be a successful plan. 

 

///

 

"Can I have your attention please...  _Courfeyrac, your attention!_ "

 

Courf blushes and rolls his eyes, diverting his attention away from Combeferre's hair and towards Enjolras. "Sorry, Enj!"

 

"Thank you. Now that we're all here, and in one piece," he glares at Grantaire and Bahorel, who smile sheepishly. "As you are all no doubt aware, there have been many... incidences, concerning the music played here in our café."

 

They all laugh awkwardly. 

 

"While most of these have been verbal and seemingly harmless, recently, they have been getting out of hand. Bahorel, Grantaire's your friend, for Heaven's sake! Grantaire, you too! Jehan, months ago, you were bubbly and happy and enjoying being in a relationship with Bahorel, and now you two don't talk! And Courf -" he stares at Courfeyrac. "You love Combeferre, but yet you continue to flirt with other customers, even when he tells you he's uncomfortable with it! Joly, Bossuet, Musichetta... You have all been buying into their nonsense. Marius, Feuilly and Eponine, you too. Cosette, you have been trying to help maintain the peace, and I thank you for that."

 

He presents her with her free slice of cake and an added free coffee, and she has the decency to not look pleased with herself. 

 

"I'm very disappointed with what I've seen lately. We're all supposed to be friends, and we're supposed to fight social injustices, not each other. You've all been driving me crazy with your carrying on."

 

They all look at their feet, unsure as to what to say. Grantaire is brave enough to speak up. 

 

"I'm -  _We're_ , sorry."

 

Enjolras looks him in the eye and smiles at him. "I know. But to make sure this doesn't happen again, I've come up with an idea."

 

"You all pick a couple of songs. Songs you like - if your life had a soundtrack, it would be this. And together, we'll create an ultimate mix CD to play in the café. Or a playlist, if that's easier. We can change them daily, weekly... Whatever suits. But you've all got to learn to like each other's tastes. We're friends because we're all different, and we each bring something unique to this group. It's time we start celebrating that, instead of fighting about it."

 

They all leave the meeting silently, pressed with the important decision of their song on their minds. 

 

Only Grantaire lingers, momentarily. "It's a good idea, you know."

 

Enjolras looks at him. "Thanks."

 

"But, you know... You should pick some songs, too. You probably deserve to have your music playing more than anyone else."

 

Enjolras watches him leave, ignoring the way his heart beats faster.

 

///

 

Courfeyrac is the first to approach him with his songs, and it's first thing the next morning. He hasn't even chained his bicycle when he springs on him.

 

"I wrote them down, so you won't forget," Courfeyrac explains, handing him a crumpled piece of note paper. "Oh, and I'm sorry, Enj. I spoke to 'Ferre... I'm gonna make an effort to change, okay? I'm really sorry."

 

"That's alright, Courf," Enjolras sighs. "Ferre loves you a lot, you know. I just hate to see him, or any of you for that matter, upset."

"Yeah, we all know. You're a good person, Enjolras."

 

It sets the tone for the morning, and the morning is great. Enjolras puts the paper in his pocket, and carries on with his daily tasks.

 

///

 

Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta give him their suggestions shortly after the lunch rush passes. They have solemn faces, and they too apologize for their actions.

 

"Really, Enjolras, I think I was just trying to avoid the whole drama, and consequently became a bystander, and I'm real sorry for that," Joly says, and Enjolras nods and smiles, because Joly always means well, and he knows this.

 

He gets the three of them to write their suggestions down on separate sticky notes, and he folds them up and puts them away in his satchel. 

 

///

 

On his way out to leave, Feuilly catches his arm and hands him a piece of graph paper,  folded carefully into a small origami crane, with ' _i'm sorry xx_ ' written on the left wing. Two songs are written in tiny writing on the right wing. 

 

Feuilly doesn't like confrontation. Enjolras can respect that.

 

///

 

To his slight surprise, Bahorel and Jehan give him their songs together.

 

"We realized we were being silly," Jehan gushes, hanging off of Bahorel's arm once again. 

 

"Thanks for helping us see what we were really doing to each other," Bahorel admits. "Sorry for being a dick."

 

"Yes, sorry for being awful," Jehan says, pulling Enjolras into a tight hug which he can't help but return. 

 

///

 

Combeferre throws his songs at Enjolras - literally.

 

"Neat paper plane," Enjolras remarks, rubbing his forehead where it had hit his head. Combeferre, being a total nerd, has always been good at creating supreme aerodynamic paper planes.

 

"Thank you," Combeferre smiles, sitting down opposite him. "Hey, your speech - thanks. For saying what needed saying."

 

He shrugs. "Just doing the world a favour, it would seem. And our customers - our sales have actually gone down since these music arguments started. Customers aren't enjoying themselves, when they should be."

 

Combeferre laughs. "Of course you're concerned about the people. You're always concerned about the people. It never matters to you how much money we make, just that everyone's happy."

 

Enjolras smiles. "Well, obviously."

 

///

 

Eponine also hits him with her song choices, in the form of a rolled up paper ball covered in her large, almost illegitimate writing. 

 

"If you can't read any of the words, then you're not trying hard enough," she tells him, before whispering, "But, seriously, if worse comes to worse, just text me and ask."

 

Cosette and Marius, always the sickeningly sweet couple, coordinate their song choices and submit theirs together, on neat paper in clear handwriting, and Enjolras actually hugs them. Cosette is pleased, and Marius is a stuttering mess afterwards, but he can't help it. 

 

That left only Grantaire. Who has called a sick day two days in a row. Enjolras has a plan to go visit him, and so he takes a new route on his bicycle when he leaves work for the day.

 

///

 

It takes him 2 hours to reach Grantaire's home, a shabby flat with a messy interior. 

 

"Anyone home?" Enjolras yells, annoyed at the doorbell for being broken. And not broken where it doesn't make a noise - broken where it's half hanging off the wall, wires poking out and oozing some kind of plant sap.

 

Grantaire stumbles to the front door, looking and sounding sick. "Apollo? What are you doing here?"

 

Enjolras smiles. "You, erm, haven't been at work these past two days, and you're the only person yet to give me their songs for my idea."

 

Grantaire smiles. "Do you want to come in? Only, I haven't actually considered it properly yet. I can make you a coffee? Or..."

 

He beams. "I'd love to, Grantaire."

 

The inside is covered in paintings, and it gives off an eccentric vibe. The entire flat smells like paint and black coffee. It would seem pretentious  and hipster-y, but somehow, knowing it belongs to Grantaire makes it just seem... Normal.

 

Grantaire fixes him a coffee and attempts to make his flat appear as tidy as possible. "Sorry about the mess, I wasn't really expecting company."

 

"Doesn't bother me," Enjolras bluffs, but, Grantaire being Grantaire, he sees right through this.

 

"You get fidgety when young teenagers spill their drinks on tables, and your socks are colour coded and always matching. It bothers you," he smiles. "Hey, it's okay. We've all got our own... things. Yours just happens to be orderliness. And social justice."

 

Enjolras blushes and sips at his coffee. "I didn't really think anybody noticed. About the socks, or the spills."

 

"Yeah, well, no one does. I just see it, I guess."

 

He coughs, and changes the subject. "Now, those songs. I'm really not sure what to pick."

 

"Your favourites, I suppose," Enjolras suggests unhelpfully. 

 

"Yeah, duh, but which ones?" Grantaire says, more to himself than to Enjolras. "Tough call, really."

 

He fumbles around for a working pen and a clear sheet of paper, having to surrender and use a half-scribbled on sheet. He writes down 2 songs, and hands it to Enjolras. "There we are. I'll be at work tomorrow anyway, but thanks for coming round. And... Sorry. Again."

 

Enjolras shrugs. "That's okay. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone has things they did that they probably shouldn't have."

 

He finishes his coffee, and leaves. As he jumps back on his bicycle, Grantaire says, "Have you chosen your songs yet?"

 

Enjolras just smiles and rides away, once again ignoring his rapid heart beat.

 

///

 

Later that night, Enjolras looks at Grantaire's songs. It's inevitable - he's looking at all their song selections, so that he can compile 13 CDs with all of their songs. But as he (very legally, thank you very much) downloads their songs, he listens to Grantaire's choices. And he finds he thoroughly enjoys them. As he waits for the last of the CDs to finish, he looks at the doodles on Grantaire's piece of paper. 

 

His heart beats fast. Faster than he can ever remember it beating. His stomach flips as well, and he can feel himself shaking. Grantaire must have not seen it. There's no way he could have seen it.

 

In the margin of the paper, in handwriting that could only belong to Grantaire, is ' _R & Apollo_'.

 

He thinks about it all night. Does he confront Grantaire? Pretend he didn't see it? He panics himself to sleep, and when he wakes up the next morning, he almost considers not turning up for work.

 

But there are 13 CDs that need distributing and a socialist café he has to run. Damn it.

 

///

 

"Oooh, is today the day?" Jehan asks excitedly, pointing at the CDs in Enjolras' satchel. He nods at them, resulting in them clapping their hands together excitedly. 

 

"Gather round," Enjolras announces. "I have the CDs, the soul cure for the horrendous music wars-"

 

"Drama queen," Combeferre snorts, but he's smiling. 

 

Enjolras rolls his eyes and begins to hand them out. He's left with his own, and one extra.

 

Grantaire is not there.

 

Only... yes he is. He comes running into the café, clearly late and in a frazzled mess. 

 

"Apollo, shit!" he pants, running over to him. "Sorry, so sorry, I wasn't planning on coming, but,  _fuck_ -"

 

"Language!" Jehan interrupts, sing-song. 

 

"Yeah, well, I realized I gave you a piece of paper, with... Look, if you've seen it, I didn't mean it, alright? I'm sorry, it was just aimless doodling..."

 

Enjolras stares at him, with his flushed cheeks and shallow breaths. His heart beats fast. His stomach flips. He's shaking.

 

He kisses Grantaire. 

 

The other cheer and clap, but he's never felt so nervous in his life, so unsure...

 

And Grantaire pulls away, looks him in the eyes, wraps his arms around his waist, and kisses him back. 

 

///

 

"Right, well, now that some of us," Jehan starts, smiling at Enjolras and Grantaire, who are both flushed bright pink and smiling. "Have sorted out our feelings, lets go over this song list, eh?"

 

They open their CDs, and begin reading through the list.

 

**_The Musain C_ _afé Ultimate Playlist_ **

  
**1.** _I Wanna Get Better_ **_-_ Bleachers _(Courfeyrac)_**

  
**2.** _Someday I'll Be Saturday Night_ **_-_ Bon Jovi  _(Feuilly)_**

  
**3.** _Gold Dust Woman_ **_-_ Fleetwood Mac  _(Eponine)_**

  
**4.** _Real Slim Shady_ **_-_ Eminem  _(Bahorel)_**

  
**5.** _Come On Eileen_ **_-_ Dexys Midnight Runners  _(Joly)_**

  
**6.** _Take It Easy_ **_-_ The Eagles  _(Bossuet)_**

  
**7.** _Flume_ **_-_ Bon Iver  _(Jehan)_**

  
**8.** _You Shook Me All Night Long_ **_-_ AC/DC  _(Bahorel)_**

  
**9.** _Giving Up The Gun_ **_-_ Vampire Weekend  _(Joly)_**

  
**10.** _Riptide_ **_-_ Vance Joy  _(Courfeyrac)_**

  
_**11.** Si Tu Vois Ma M_ère ** _-_ Sidney Bechet  _(Combeferre)_**

  
**12.** _Uptown Funk_ **_-_ Mark Ronson ft. Bruno Mars  _(Courfeyrac)_**

  
**13.** _Dance With Me Tonight_ **_-_ Olly Murs  _(Musichetta)_**

  
**14.** _Daydream Believer_ **_-_ The Monkees  _(Joly)_**

  
**15.** _Homewrecker_ **_-_ Marina & The Diamonds  _(Eponine)_**

  
**16.** _Oh What A Night_ **_-_ Frankie Vallie & The Four Seasons  _(Marius + Cosette)_**

  
**17.** _Come Together_ **_-_ Echosmith  _(Enjolras)_**

  
**18.** _Listen To The Music_ **_-_ The Doobie Brothers  _(Bossuet)_**

  
**19.** _i like you_ **_-_ dandelion hands  _(Jehan)_**

  
**20.** _This Charming Man_ **_-_ The Smiths  _(Grantaire)_**

  
**21.** _Cherry Bomb_ **_-_ The Runaways  _(Musichetta)_**

  
**22.** _Rolling In The Deep_ **_-_ Adele  _(Feuilly)_**

  
**23.** _Bistro Fada_ **_-_ Stephane Wrembel  _(Combeferre)_**

  
**24.** _Love Love Love_ **_-_ Avalanche City  _(Marius + Cosette)_**

  
**25.** _Wish You Well_ **_-_ Bernard Fanning  _(Grantaire)_**

****

There's a murmur of agreement amongst them. They all have something to enjoy, and they all beam at Enjolras. 

 

"We're gonna play my copy first," Courf pipes up, which makes Bahorel instinctively open his mouth to argue. It doesn't matter that the CDs all have the same content - somehow, they can always find something to argue about.

 

Enjolras just smiles. Grantaire takes his hand from beside him.

 

"Only one song, Apollo? Everyone else had at least two."

 

Enjolras beams. "No, you see. I really had three."

 

Grantaire frowns and looks down at his CD. "See? One. Only one has your name beside it."

 

"Yes, well, that's a slight printing error on my behalf. These two would have my name beside them, but they were already taken by someone else."

 

He points at Grantaire's songs, who looks at him and grins. "You like my stuff, huh?"

 

"Well... Morrissey is an arsehole, frankly, but... Yes. Yes I do," Enjolras sighs.

 

As the others break out into a fight of who's CD is better, and Musichetta asks if the next CD can have La Vie Boheme on it from all of them, they cuddle into each other. There will always be something to fight about, Enjolras thinks. But he thinks he likes it like that. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> combeferre likes classical music bc he's a little nerd. and grantaire's music taste basically resembles mine. long live morrissey :)) come say hi to me!! www.cvmbe-ferre.tumblr.com . also check out the mix i made for this fic (omg wow) http://8tracks.com/whenrainmetcoffee/the-musain-cafe-ultimate-playlist !!!


End file.
